Learning to Walk Away
by KarmaBean
Summary: It's graduation time for Rory and Tristan. Part Four in the series--undisputed. :)


Author's Note: Part Four. Again, with the asterisks! Worry not, this is the last of the old parts of the series to be posted before new stuff arrives…soon, I hope. (  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Learning to Walk Away  
  
  
  
Tristan couldn't get out of there fast enough. He'd sat through the perfunctory hours of graduation, nearly falling asleep several times during the major address and valedictory speech. The only thing that kept him awake during the honorary degrees was the fact that Rory was receiving one. He couldn't help but notice how radiant she looked, blushing faintly as she was forced to stand before a crowd of over 5,000 people.  
  
If not for his friend pinching him awake, he wouldn't have moved to go to the department ceremony where he'd again sit through a series of boring, but necessary formalities. But now it was all over, and he had to see her. And as much as he wanted out of stifling purple gown, wanted to leave the throngs of people behind, he'd brave the madness of Washington Park again. Because as much as he wanted to avoid her, he needed to see her. He couldn't let her leave without saying goodbye first.  
  
He knew they were all foolishly congregating somewhere in the vicinity of the fountain before going to a celebratory luncheon. Tristan learned that from Lorelai when he ran into her earlier; she hugged and teased him as though nothing had changed. As though he were still a part of the lives of the Gilmore girls.  
  
Sure enough, there they were, quite possibly the most colorful group in the whole place. It was almost impossible to miss the Stars Hollow/Hartford contingency: Babette standing on the fountain edge, adjusting Murray's tie; the flirtatious Ms. Patty cornering two unsuspecting graduates who had originally come over to talk to Rory, no doubt; Sookie and Jackson were in each other's arms, looking at each other as though they were newlyweds again; Luke hovering over Lorelai as she held baby Emily in her arms, engaging in conversation with another couple bearing a baby; Emily and Richard Gilmore were standing with two other people of similar age, probably old friends; and there was Rory standing with Lane, looking breathtaking despite the stifling heat of the mid-May afternoon.  
  
He briefly wondered how they managed to get so many tickets before approaching the collection of friendly faces that he'd grown to know and care for. Being in the exalted circle of Rory Gilmore's loved ones was by far one of the most special things he held close to his heart. Now he was just the ex-boyfriend that they had to act awkward around.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself to walk over. He had to say goodbye sooner or later.  
  
*  
  
Rory felt his gaze long before he approached her. She knew he'd been watching her, but she didn't dare turn to call him on it because then they'd gaze into each other. And then they'd be uncomfortable. Flustered. She wouldn't know what to do with herself because she wasn't allowed to touch him anymore.  
  
He wasn't hers.  
  
She wasn't his.  
  
It was how things had to be. Or so he said.  
  
So for now they'd keep up the pretense of friendship and ease, lest either of them (her) break out into wild tears and beg the other (him) to stay.  
  
"He's coming," Lane said through gritted teeth.  
  
"I know," she said, trying not to move her lips.  
  
"So what are you going to do?"  
  
Rory furrowed her brow. "Nothing. Just talk, I guess."  
  
Lane rolled her eyes. "I can't believe this. You two are by far the most misguided couple I've ever met. I mean, this is worse than your mother, or 'the idiotic courtship of the Danes' as I like to call it," she said, her words rushed.  
  
"I think it's genetic. It's like you two don't know how to talk about your feelings with those of the opposite sex. Although, it's not as if I'm one to talk, but really, you're starting to remind me of a very bad… Hey Tristan. Congratulations!"  
  
Lane stepped forward and threw her arms around the boy, catching him off- guard, though he recovered quickly enough to return the embrace.  
  
"Thanks," he said as she pulled away. "And I suppose I should say the same to you. I'm just sorry I couldn't go to your graduation. Finals…well, they sucked."  
  
Rory was confused. Lane sent him an invitation?  
  
"Oh, no problem. I don't think you would have wanted to sit through the ceremony anyway. It was even more inane than this one…not that…the speeches were absolutely riveting. I mean, the girl with the curly brown hair…her speech was great. Only got better in the last twenty minutes."  
  
Tristan chuckled. "I was particularly captivated by her use of Latin myself. Almost kept me conscious for a full minute as I started conjugating verbs."  
  
"You conjugate Latin verbs for kicks?" asked Lane.  
  
"Just easy ones, you know, to be…sum, es, est, sumus, estis, erant," he said as an example. "And when she started talking about walking into the great unknown, I was mumbling ambulo, ambulas, ambulat, ambulamus, ambulates, ambulant under my breath. I think the guy next to me thought I'd lost it."  
  
"He's a nerd," Rory said in a stage whisper.  
  
"This gorgeous piece of man-meat?" asked Lane, making him blush. "I don't believe it."  
  
"Oh my god," Rory muttered.  
  
Tristan smiled. "Believe it."  
  
"Yeah, in his spare time he memorizes French poetry…" Rory mentally winced even before the last two words came out. What possessed her to dredge up that little bit of painful history?  
  
She knew her friend could feel the immediate tension, and didn't blame her one bit when she said, "Okay, I believe it. Anyhow, I'm just going to go over there and talk to Lorelai. Hopefully I can dissuade her from a Mexican restaurant. I just had a really heinous experience with a tostada I'd rather not talk about."  
  
And with those words, Lane was gone, leaving them to deal with the tension by themselves.  
  
*  
  
"I'm sorry," she said immediately after Lane left. "I didn't mean to…"  
  
"Dig up old memories?" he asked softly.  
  
Her shoulders drop from their previously tensed position. "Yeah."  
  
"It's okay."  
  
"Good," she breathes.  
  
They both glance down at their feet, not knowing where to begin. As much as Tristan wants to get it over with, he can't help but want to be near her.  
  
"So…conjugating Latin verbs, huh? I didn't think her speech was that bad. She's a nice girl."  
  
"Know her?"  
  
Rory nodded. "Yeah, she and I had a couple of the same classes since she was a journalism major too."  
  
"Well it wasn't so much that she was…terrible," he said with a crooked smile. "I just had my mind on other things."  
  
"And you decided to express them via Latin verbs?" she asked with a raised brow.  
  
"You could say that," he said noncommittally. He wasn't about to tell her that of all the verbs he went through, the one he kept on repeating was to love. * Amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant…*  
  
*Amo…*  
  
I love…  
  
*Hac amo…*  
  
I love that girl…  
  
"You're a man of many talents, Tristan DuGrey," Rory said warmly. "Yale's lucky to have you."  
  
And he thought she'd want to steer clear of that topic.  
  
"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have said anything," she mumbled, sitting down on the fountain edge. She ran a hand through her thick hair and looked down at her feet again.  
  
Tristan sighed as he took a seat beside her. "Why do you say that?"  
  
"Because for the last two weeks, every time I've run into you, you act as though nothing's wrong. As though you didn't break up with me and…"  
  
Her eyes fell shut. He watched as wrinkles gathered at the corners of her eyes and her jaw clench. When he met her eyes again, there was a degree of sadness that wasn't there before. "And every time I mentioned Yale or Washington, you either changed the subject or made an excuse to run."  
  
"I guess it just hurts to talk about the future."  
  
Rory snickered. "It hurts you? You're not the one that got dumped over a situation you couldn't control," she said bitterly. She shook her head. "Sorry again. Seems I spend half the time apologizing nowadays. I'm just having some trouble dealing." Rory smiled wryly. "I think I'd be insane if I didn't have trouble dealing."  
  
"Do you honestly think we would have worked with you in D.C. and me in New Haven?" he asked, taking her hand while ignoring the heart palpitations incurred by the contact. "I didn't want us to be that resentful couple that ended up apart anyway because they hated each other and couldn't think about the other without disdain."  
  
"My rational mind knows you're right, but my irrational side just wants us to get back together and try a long-distance relationship anyway," she said, squeezing his hand.  
  
He squeezed back. "It just isn't the right time for us," he whispered. "Not when I have law school, and you have a great job waiting for you a million miles away."  
  
"It's not a million miles away."  
  
"Closer to 327.2 miles, but who's counting?" he asked, smiling.  
  
"You want to come to lunch with us?" she asked, surveying the group around her. "I think the natives are getting restless. We haven't eaten since eight this morning."  
  
He shook his head. A talk he could deal with, but lunch? Knowing the people involved, this would be a two to three hour endurance trial of bickering, storytelling, laughter, insults and merrymaking. Tristan couldn't possibly put himself through all that. Besides, his parents actually came down to see him walk. It certainly threw him for a loop. Though he suspected his grandfather, also in attendance, had a hand in it.  
  
"I can't. The powers that be have decided that three generations of DuGreys must dine together."  
  
Rory was noticeably surprised. He had to comment, "I know."  
  
"Wow. That's…great," she said with a slightly confused smile. It made him smile too. "Well, we'll miss you."  
  
"I'll miss them too," he said, sincerity echoing in his voice. "But I'll miss you most."  
  
He heard her breath hitch. "Don't say stuff like that unless you want me bawling," she half-joked.  
  
"I guess it's my turn to apologize."  
  
Rory cleared her throat. "So when you become a kickass lawyer, you'll look me up, right?"  
  
She wasn't even going to pretend like they were going to keep in touch once they were apart. He wasn't upset, because she was right. There was no way he could pretend to just be her friend when neither of them really wanted to be apart. Tristan couldn't just call up and ask her how things were going at Time, if she was getting a byline anytime soon. Rory couldn't e- mail him asking if he hated studying about comm law as much as he did in Ford's class last semester, or got bored briefing cases.  
  
It was unrealistic to think they were that intensely masochistic. They had loved each other too much and too madly to bullshit each other now.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Or we could just wait until our ten year high school reunion. Then we can compare success stories, have mad sex, get married and live happily ever after," she quipped.  
  
"Three kids and a house on Long Island?"  
  
"Maybe a dog too. And perhaps Great Falls," she said thoughtfully. "It's a suburb of Washington in Virginia. Nice houses, exorbitant HOA fees, good school districts and general 'I'm better than you' attitudes that are reminiscent of Hartford society." She grimaced. "On second thought, maybe not."  
  
"Perhaps something less affluent," he said, continuing the twisted little game.  
  
"Hmm. I'll have to do some more research."  
  
Tristan shook his head. "I can't even imagine you going to the Chilton reunion. Especially since, as I recall, you hated it."  
  
"And you wouldn't go because you left before you could graduate. Hooligan that you were," she grinned. "Are."  
  
"You know you dug it," he smirked.  
  
"Oh yeah. You kept me hot and bothered daily."  
  
"Damn. You should have told me while I was still there. Then I could have shown you the pleasures of making out in the janitor's closet," he leered.  
  
"People actually did that? I figured Chiltonites would find something a little less skanky."  
  
"Absolutely. We revel in the skanky. But to be honest, we had pretty nice janitor's closets."  
  
"You'd know."  
  
"I could show you some time," he offered.  
  
She scoffed. "Return to the hallowed halls of Chilton? No thank you, despite the tempting proposition."  
  
Tristan ran his thumb over her knuckles, knowing their time was drawing to an end. Better he leave while he still could.  
  
"I don't think we should keep either of our families waiting any longer," he whispered.  
  
Rory's fingers tensed just as he was releasing them. "So this is goodbye."  
  
He furrowed his brow, as though in pain. "Yeah, this is goodbye." Tristan leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Goodbye Rory Gilmore."  
  
*  
  
She bit down on her bottom lip, trying not to cry. This was it. The end. Finis. The curtain was coming down. He was leaving her for good.  
  
Tristan didn't wait for her to say the words back. He just stood up and started walking.  
  
He was five feet away.  
  
Eight.  
  
Ten.  
  
No, it couldn't end this way.  
  
"Tristan, wait!" she exclaimed.  
  
Rory got to her feet and caught up to him, flinging herself into his arms as he turned around. She wouldn't kiss him like she wanted, because she knew she'd never stop, but she needed to hug him, hold him, just one last time.  
  
"I know I shouldn't be saying this because we're not together anymore. But I don't care," she murmured. "I love you so much I ache. I don't want to think that you might forget me, but I know you will. I just wanted you to know…That's all. Because I'll miss you more than you can possibly fathom, and I fear you'll be haunting my dreams for the foreseeable and unforeseeable future. So…yeah. I love you, and nothing you can say will make me stop. Ever."  
  
It came out so fast both of them were still processing her words.  
  
Then his arms came around her back, holding her tight against him. "I love you, Ror. I won't forget."  
  
Rory relaxed her embrace as the words left him mouth. She kissed his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Go before I change my mind."  
  
One last squeeze and he was gone from her arms. Rory didn't look up until it was too late. He was lost on the crowd, just another purple gown to blur in with the rest.  
  
"You all right, babe?" she heard, just as Lorelai's arm came around her shoulder.  
  
Rory leaned her head into the crook of her mother's neck and sighed. "I don't think so."  
  
"I didn't think so either," the elder Lorelai said, her voice resigned. "At least you had two good years. And Europe."  
  
Rory laughed slightly, her brows drawing together as a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away swiftly, blinking away the others that threatened to fall.  
  
Mention of the summer after sophomore year was the only thing that kept her from weeping like a fool. Running away with him was a decision she'd never regret. There was nothing that could replace the memories of walking hand in hand through Orsanmichele or watching the sunrise over the Danube.  
  
It almost amused Rory that her mother was referencing it so easily after she'd gotten hell for abandoning Lorelai for two months.  
  
Rory lifted her head and took a deep breath. "C'mon, let's go. I think I need a stiff drink," she declared.  
  
Lorelai pursed her lips. "Double shot of espresso?"  
  
"Make it a triple."  
  
Lorelai whistled. "Ballsy. You are definitely my child," she said proudly. "Let's round up the troop. Among the lot of us, we can get your mind off of your extra hot ex."  
  
"Extra hot ex? Please, not helping."  
  
"You cannot possibly put up a logical argument to the statement. He is gorgeous. I love Luke, but damn that boy's got an ass on him."  
  
"I heard that," Luke rumbled, looking crotchety despite the gentle way he was bouncing Emily in his arms.  
  
Lorelai grinned as she curried Rory on one side and put her free arm around her husband. "You know you agree with me."  
  
Luke rolled his eyes. He couldn't deny liking the punk. "All right, I admit it. I ogle his ass whenever I see him. Happy? Can we go now?"  
  
His wife grinned as she kissed his surprisingly clean-shaved jaw before turning to Rory. "Let's go get you that triple shot."  
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
  
Luke took that as his cue to announce their migration to the collective group. After brief argument, they finally settled on a type of cuisine they could all handle for one afternoon, and set off. Rory and Lorelai pulled up the rear after Luke left them to walk closer to Richard and Emily, who asked to hold her namesake.  
  
"You know, Ror, I have a good feeling about the future. Something tells me you and Tristan will see each other again. This isn't the end," said Lorelai, slipping her arm around her daughter's waist. Rory did the same.  
  
"Despite your confidence, I'm inclined to believe that you're wrong. At least on this count."  
  
"Naysayer. You found each other once, surely it can happen again." When Rory shook her head, Lorelai added, "You can believe what you want to believe. I have faith in my psychic powers. I'll just keep my fingers crossed for you."  
  
*  
  
The light in her bedroom was on. She was staying one more week before moving down to Washington, D.C. For good. But for now she was still packing, which would take her days. He knew her. She would rummage through some old box of papers and would stop to read, reminisce. It was just how she was. And he knew her.  
  
She passed by the window now and then, allowing him brief glances that only served to make his chest tighten painfully. It was sad really. He shouldn't have come out walking after deciding he couldn't sleep. Or at the very least, he shouldn't have come walking straight to her apartment.  
  
This was stalking.  
  
This was voyeurism.  
  
This was the act of a desperate man.  
  
Tristan sighed. He'd said goodbye, hugged and kissed her one last time. He had to learn to walk away and stay away.  
  
But for now, he was going to allow himself one last night to moon and be weak as he watched her window. Just this once, he told him. * Just this once.*  
  
The End 


End file.
